


The Jarl and Headless Guilt

by TheStarStableBoy



Category: Star Stable
Genre: Galloper Thompson is named Jörman, Jon Jarl is evil, Jorvik is in for a wild ride, M/M, Slow Build, Sorry Not Sorry, star stable - Freeform, star stable online - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-21 21:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16584116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStarStableBoy/pseuds/TheStarStableBoy
Summary: Jon Jarl, the Jarl of a group of exiled people has landed on Jorvik. Jörman is a young man who followed him. They don't know each other at first but over time Jörman becomes a great warrior for the Jarl and then something even more different. His love for the man isn't shown as much as he would wish. Over time the Jarl's madness consumes him and Jörman is punished for a crime he didn't commit. He loses his head for the Jarl's amusement and swears revenge for his broken heart.





	1. The Landing

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapters will be slow. The first will be a bit short but they will get longer. At first it's going to almost be a day by day journal over time the romance will kick in a bit. This is my first time writing Star Stable fanfiction. Please don't be too harsh with the comments.

Galloper Thompson….that wasn’t his name. That had never been his name but the people seemed to enjoy calling him that. Why? Folklore he guessed. He couldn’t even remember his true name at this point. Ah, but he did remember the Jarl, the tall handsome Jarl of Jorvik as he called the land. A traveler and a good leader until his mind seemed to fade. Oh how that had pained him. A strong man that found a greed for more power only for that greed to go too far.

 

. * ~* ♡ * ~ * . Many, many …..many years earlier . * ~* ♡ * ~ * .

As the Jarl, a traveler at the time but no less a leader, stepped off his ship onto the sand many men followed. Some were starving, others in a bit better shape but not much. They offloaded supplies onto the beach, the Jarl sending a few unlucky men out to scout for food rather than let them rest. A good amount of the mean stayed behind building a camp for the time being. As tents are set up and fires built a younger man who had started out as an older teen on the journey went forward, hunting for food. Deer were in easy supply and it seemed the land and forests hadn’t been touched by farming equipment yet. His boots skimmed across the ground making a bit of noise but the soft grass covered it easily. He moves forward more toward the deer, arrow and draw string already drawn back. He aims and takes out the deer easily, moving forward to them pick it up to take it back to the camp The animal moves and stirs before falling still, arrow in its heart.. He shivers as he seems to feel the forest dislike what he had done. He seems to feel eyes watching him as he hurries back to camp with his catch, a few other men had already brought their catches back by the time he brings his to the camp’s appointed cook. He lowers the animal carefully, laying it down next to the others. He felt regret wash over him.

The Jarl had stayed behind while the others hunted. He was talking with a few higher officers about finding mounts of some sort if they could and starting on building a village. They would need to first start on making a place for growing crops and a blacksmith for tools. Next would be store houses and houses for each family. A healer would be needed as well. It wouldn’t be easy but it would be better than staying back at his old home where he had tried to take the throne and failed. If he had stayed his men and he himself would have been killed for the battle they had caused. He was Jarl to these men though, their leader. Jarl….a title he had wanted for so long and now he had it and his own land to conquer as he pleased. Soon maybe he could even create a trading port and get more people under his rule. That would come in time though. Right now he would have to deal with the staving and making sure everyone was taken care of. Any who were sick would have to be separated from the camp they were now in. For that he asked for an officer to find a beach a good ways away to take them and let them camp. The sick were few and he had many young and strong men so he didn’t worry too much that those that would be sent away wouldn’t be coming back.

 

Jörman...ah, yes that was his original name. Jörman helped the cook for a bit before picking up an axe at the call of one of the other men to help get some trees cut. He joined them, swinging the tool into the bark of the tree, chipping at it and making it rip and fall apart. He fell into a rhythm, enjoying it. It was a music that seemed to fill the forest along with the sounds of nearby animals creating different calls. Some in warning some in curiosity. The other men seemed to join his rhythm as they helped him cut down more trees.

Soon a pile of long logs a had built up and the sun was beginning to start to drop in the sky. They all quickly stopped cutting in favor of making the log shorter and then cutting it into firewood to be used. Jörman carried as much as he could to the camp and stacked it  
carefully, creating a wall of piled wood. By the time the sun had set he and the others had gotten the wood stacked easily where it was safe from catching fire but was within grabbing distance. As the last piece was put in place someone pushed a chunk of meat into his hands which he gladly took a couple bites out of before remembering the feeling he got from the forest. He ate a lot more slowly after that but in his mind it was forgivable, he was just as thin as the other men and he needed the food. It would do him no good to stare or die of sickness because he couldn’t fend it off like the older warriors. 

The Jarl ate first but of course had someone else take the first bite of his meat. It would do him little good to die the first night on land. He had almost been poisoned before he didn’t need a second repeat of that. Not when they didn’t have a healer. He watches the man who had taken a bit of his meat carefully. Once he was sure the tester wasn’t going to die from the food he began to eat and the camp came to life as food was passed around. Someone had found fresh water and that was passed around as well, the men quickly drinking most of it. At least they had most of their supplies from their journey but a few ships had gone down before they had found land. A couple of religious men had called it an omen from Thor that he was a bad leader. He had them then thrown overboard when no one was looking. The mean had been gagged and ropes had held their hands together.. Pity, they had been strong men however he couldn’t take the chance of people betraying him. He had become a king, he wasn’t going to lose that. 

“Jarl.” A man called out. “A scout has come back. He has found some wild horses for us to catch and use to explore to the land. They are of good breeding. All are sturdy and they seem trusting to a degree.” The man babbled, out of breath. “Thank you.” The Jarl spoke. “In the morning have a group of men catch some of them. Tame them quickly and make sure they can carry a rider. Have an office look them over and pick one out for me when you are done. He will have first pick before the other men.” He was trying to hide his smirk behind a smile. The officer would pick the finest horse of the bunch for him so he wouldn’t have to himself and make himself look selfish. After that is would be time to explore the land and create maps of it. He would make sure no one was on this land or if there were people he would make sure they were under his rule. The boats with the wives and children would hopefully land the next morning. There were not many so mixing with the local blood would most likely be a wise idea. Of course it would be a risky one. He would have to act as noble as he could or he could lose his throne again. He needed his men and any possible inhabitants to trust him. Without trust his plans would not work. This would be hell for him but it would be worth it if it worked.

 

Jörman moved to a quiet hill while the men celebrated their landing. He layed back on the cool grass, arms behind his head, his eyes on the stars he no longer recognized. He began to draw shapes in them. Of horses, of hunters, of great men like the Jarl. He gave each a name. His favorite was the shape of a galloping horse he called Frihed mean freedom in his language. This was a new land he couldn’t wait to explore. Though at the moment the nights were warm and sleep sounded like a much needed reward after the taxing day. He rolls onto his side and closes his eyes. As he drifts off to a land of dreams he hears whispers behind him but he is too exhausted to wake himself up. He dreams of a land he has yet to explore and of a bay horse galloping across a field.


	2. Wild horses of Jorvik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wild horses of Jorvik a pulled into the jarl's plans. He needs steeds for his men, but the land will not be pleased.

Jörman wakes up the next morning, dew on the grass and soaking his clothes. He groans and sits up after waking up a bit, his muscles sore and his skin cold. He shivers and gets up on shaky legs, his head in pain and light feeling. He groans and quickly moves to the camp, stumbling a little before sitting down on a log, letting the fire warm him and dry his clothes as he drinks some fresh water left in clay jug. He grabs a warm fur pelt and wraps it around him, one of the men handing him some meat and berries someone had found while exploring. He ate the food mindlessly, his thoughts elsewhere. He thinks to the feeling the land gave him and how the others didn't seem to notice it. He quickly shrugs it off though, his mind going other places. He rubs his hands against his face, waking up. He notices most of the men were gone from camp. His brows furrow tight as he hums. “Sigry, where is everyone?” The cooks turns to look at him. He signs with his hands rather quickly. ‘They went to catch a few of the wild horses they found.’ Jörman nods and rubs his eyes. “I should probably join them.” Sigry’s hands go to his hips before one hand points at a bunch of root vegetables someone had found. He groans and gets up, picking up a light log with a hole in the middle of it. He sits down on it and grabs a knife from the cooks tent before starting to slice into the peelings of the vegetables. He continues peeling while Sigry cuts at a bunch of the meat the other men had brought in. Some he set up to dry as jerky, some he cooked on coals and some he saved to put in stew cauldrons he had filled a good ways with water and some herbs he seemed to have found. Jörman cuts the vegetables into another cauldron for Sigry to put into the stews once he puts them on the fire. 

Once finished he looks to Sigry who then points him to some fences that some men had been working on but not finished. He groans but gets up, grabbing a some braided rope and a knife. He begins to put the logs up, and tie them together to create a sort of fence. ‘Over, around, around, under, over again.’ He moves onto the next section before making some sort of gate the men could open and close. The pen wasn’t big, just big enough for maybe four horses. Some men had made a bigger pen somewhere else probably. He grabs the rope though and begins to work on building another fence before stopping after about three or four sections, his arms tired. He takes some of the rope and snatches a couple of apples and some berries from the cooks set up tent. He puts them into the leather pouch on his hip before heading out to explore. He heads, his eyes looking down as he notices hoof prints and begins to follow them. They seemed heavy and unevenly paced. He frowns and follows them a little quicker. The seem to be staggering and he has to push through a few bushes before he sees a sight that causes his eyes to open wide. He gasps softly. The chestnut mare was laying on the ground, breathing heavy. She huffs and lets out a pained sound every so often. Jörman swallows and carefully moves forward, patting her neck. She was in labor but it didn’t seem to be going well. He frowns and moves behind her carefully, patting her side as he looks to see what was wrong. He notices the foal is stuck and lets big breath out of his nose before helping her carefully by pulling gently on the foals anytime he could see her pushing. 

After a good bit of time the foal is out and taking its first breaths. The young man moves back to look at the bay foal. She had no markings but looked to be of a draft sort. He looks to the mare which was sturdy but not a draft by any means. “I see why you had trouble.” He moves and carefully helps the mare up before waiting for the foal to stand. The mare nudges the filly and licks her gently until she stands on wobbly legs. She falls but stand soon enough again and wobbles forward before nursing. Jörman leaves the berries and apples he had brought for the mare and moves off, the mare nickering after him. He smiles to himself and cleans his hand in a stream before moving forward, looking around the land. It was beautiful and he could see many different animals around as he explored. He soon stops as a good sized pool of water where he felt he could bathe. 

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The Jarl had one of his men pick up the deer that he had hit with an arrow before he moved to follow one of his men. “Sir, we found a herd of horses. Scouts are laying low and waiting for you to take a look at the horses.” The jarl nods as he follows the man to where some men were looking into a grassy valley where a herd of horses were grazing. A stallion with a dark bay coat pranced around, looking one way and then another, seemingly sensing something. His herd was mostly solid coloured horses. Most were of a more normal size of riding horse but a few larger steeds stood out among them. A few painted and spotted coats stood out as well. His dark coloured eyes look across the group before a grin spreads across his lips. “That one.” He points to bright chestnut leopard appaloosa. “I want that mare. You all can catch a good ten or eleven mares more and have the boy break them in.” One man nods before another asks. “Boy sir?” The jarl nods. “Yes, the one that helps out the cook.” The man nods. 

The jarl watches the men slowly creep down into the valley. They begin to work out a plan to herd the horses into a part of the valley they can’t escape from and then begin cutting out the ones they don’t want. The horses begin to lift their heads, some ears perked forward towards the men and other pin back hard. The stallion let's out a warning and they begin to bolt towards the closed end of the valley. The jarl watches them before turning and heading back the way he came to go back to the beach, a man following him with the deer he shot. “Build extra fences and start on turning some the hides from the deer into usable riding equipment.” The man grumbles but nods as they make it to the camp. 

Behind him the men do their best to get ropes around the mares. One of them manages to catch the horse the jarl picked right as another plain but strong bay mare tries to bolt from the group. She quickly is caught with a rope as well. The stallion is cut from the group as are a few other mares and foals. They all bolt away from the men, leaving the caught horses behind. Cheers come from the hunting party as they begin to lead the horses back to the camp to put them in the fenced areas. The mares all pull and tug on the ropes, trying to pull away and escape from the strange men. 

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Jörman gets out of the water and pulls back on his clothes. He stretches and moves off to explore again. He crosses a log that had fallen across a river his eyes on the glitter of fish moving about as he moves into a grove a fruit bearing tree with a rather large tree in the middle. He hums in thought. The tree was tall and had a trunk big enough to make a table to seat all the men at the camp. The leaves were a dark green and the bark was old and crackled in pattern. He walks towards it, looking up. There was an assortment of nests and holes that birds and other animals had made over time. He touches it, his fingers trailing along the bark as he walks around it. He smiles starting to climb up the bark, glad for the easy foot holds to the first branch. He moves from the first branch to the second and so on until he makes it to a cluster of branches where he could easily sit towards the top of the tree. He grabs one of the red fruit hanging near his face, the skin bright red with some darker red freckles, before biting into it. He grins at the sweetness, beginning to pick more add put them in his leather pouch as he takes more bites of the apple. He looks out across the area before noticing something glittering over by the beach. He climbs down quickly, almost slipping, and moves over to the sand and picks it up. The piece of clear ‘stone’ was blue in colour. He smiles and pockets it, finding a few more pieces and adding them to his pocket. They were an assortments of greens and blues. He moves across the beach, picking up pretty much anything shiney he could, more sea glass, shells and some rather nice rock. He would be incharge of making his own tack and some of the things he had found would go towards that. He then pauses, he would need a horse first for the tack to be of use. A groan escapes his lips. He would love the mare he had helped earlier but that wasn’t the best idea. He would have to see what horses the men had gotten and look over them or he would have to get his own. With a sigh he makes his way back towards the camp.

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The mare pawed and pulls against the posts they were tied to while the men watched. One mare had already kicked a man which had gotten some laughs from the others. The mare the jarl picked was clearly the most distressed. She pulled and reared and pulled more, voicing her displeasure very loudly. The jarl came over and watched, a grin on his face. “She will be a good mare. Not as good as a war steed but good all the same.” The men all nod in agreement with him. They hadn’t grabbed any mares nursing foals as it would have made taming them all the harder. Most were mares that hadn’t been old enough to breed yet while a couple had just weaned a foal that most likely had been cut with the herd.

The bay mare which would most likely go to the boy as they called him, even though he was an adult now, was tied away from the others. She was spooked but not as much as the others. She was probably close to two years old but not quite. She was small and sturdy with a strong frame. She had a shaggy mane a tail and her coat was a bit more heavy than the other horses of the herd. She neighed and pawed, snorting for a while. Men grabbed piles of grass and placed them in front of each horse. The bay mare was the first to take a bite while the chestnut appaloosa was the last. The bay mare ate a few bites before snorting and moving around as much as the rope gave her room to.

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Jörman made it back to the camp soon enough and looked at the pen of horses. A man came over to him. “The jarl wants you to train them. The white horse with red spots is his, the shaggy on over there is yours.” He points to the bay. “The rest are for the men.” Jörman not and chews on his bottom lip. “I’ll get to work then.” He moves towards the pen and looks at the horses. Most were to scared for him to get safely close so he decided to start with the bay mare. He slips through the fence and moves over to her, walking slowly and holding his hand out. She reaches her head forward to sniff his hand until a hoof comes flying toward him from behind.


End file.
